


before I learned civility

by Singofsolace



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hecate is the little spoon, Hicsqueak, Morning After, Romance, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25789774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singofsolace/pseuds/Singofsolace
Summary: After a rather eventful staff night, Hecate wakes up in her bed a bit worse for wear, and decidedly not alone. Confessions and kisses ensue.
Relationships: Hardbroom/Pentangle (Worst Witch), Hecate Hardbroom/Pippa Pentangle
Comments: 17
Kudos: 99





	before I learned civility

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment to let me know what you think!

Hecate was the first to wake in the morning, with a mouth as dry as the well-worn pages of her ancient copy of the Witch’s Code. Her head was pounding, her stomach was bubbling like a spoiled potion, and she had the distinct and quite unmistakable aftertaste of last night’s witch’s brew on her tongue. Her body felt strangely sore, like she’d done far too much exercise, which was peculiar, because Hecate very rarely participated in strenuous cardiovascular activities.

In fact, Hecate wasn't even a fan of _walking_.

The moment she opened her eyes, the sun streaming in through her window was like having the handle of a broom shoved directly into her skull through her eye socket. Groaning, Hecate tried to turn away from the window, only to discover an arm holding her in place. Her mind raced, unable to reconcile the sudden press of… _someone_ … pressed against her back.

Merlin, what had she done? She couldn’t remember much about last night… only that it was a staff night, and Dimity bloody Drill kept plying her with brew after brew. Hecate had truly wanted to remain relatively grounded and sober, if only because Pippa had been invited to attend staff night after teaching yet another round of Modern Witching Workshops at Cackles.

She remembered trying not to stare at Pippa too much, but it was terribly difficult to avoid, what with the way the tight pink cocktail dress came to just above Pippa’s knee, hugging each and every curve of her body so… distractingly. Not only that, but Pippa kept smiling and laughing and nudging Hecate with her elbow and asking her to dance and…

…and then Hecate’s memory went blank.

“Hiccup?” said a tired but satisfied voice that Hecate knew only too well. The arm around her waist tightened, drawing Hecate’s body closer.

No. No, it couldn’t be. Hecate couldn’t possibly have… fallen into _bed_ with Pippa?!

Scrambling away, Hecate misjudged the distance between her body and the edge of the bed, falling with an almighty crash to the floor.

“Hiccup?!”

Hecate groaned, clutching her head. She’d hit her forehead on the night table, causing the pounding, throbbing pain that was already there to spike.

“Oh, Hiccup, I’m so sorry for startling you.”

Hecate made the mistake of looking back up to the bed—and it was truly a terrible mistake—as Pippa was naked as the day she was born, and Hecate had no idea where her eyes were meant to settle.

“Pippa?” said Hecate, her voice much higher than normal, making her sound terribly young, even to her own ears. Had she ever even _been_ that young? Her aunt had never been the kind to tolerate shrillness—or children, for that matter.

By way of answering, Pippa hummed, stretching her body like a cat in a sun-spot. “I don’t know why you sound so surprised. You were saying my name long into the night.”

Hecate blushed, pressing a hand to her chest to quiet her rapidly beating heart, and was surprised when skin met skin. Belatedly realizing that she, too, was naked, she scrambled to her feet, making a beeline for her robe. She put it on in a hurry, pointedly facing away from Pippa.

“Hecate? Are you alright?”

Was she? Hecate couldn’t possibly know. She felt like she was falling through the floor and floating up to the ceiling at the same time.

“ _Please_ , say something, Hiccup,” said Pippa, her voice far closer than it was a moment ago.

Letting out a stuttering breath, Hecate turned, her eyes focused on the floor, lest she be distracted by Pippa’s state of undress.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t—I don’t—I can’t remember _what_ I did, but I can… I can guess, and I’m sorry.”

“Why on earth would you be _sorry_?” asked Pippa, her voice a mixture of pain and confusion that Hecate knew all too well, which only made Hecate loathe herself all the more.

Bare feet with painted pink toes appeared in front of her, along with the edge of a sheet, which gave Hecate the courage to slowly raise her eyes to see Pippa draped in her linen like a Grecian goddess.

Slowly, Hecate received flashes of memory—sensuous, delicious, sinful memory—of the two of them returning from staff night and very quickly coming together.

“So, you’re not… mad?” said Hecate breathlessly, her eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to center herself.

“Hecate, I’ve been waiting for this for thirty-five years. Why in Merlin’s name would I be _mad_?”

A rush of warmth flooded Hecate as her mind ground to a halt. None of this made sense, but as her memory returned, she was becoming more and more sure that what had happened last night was entirely (if unexpectedly)…mutual.

“You were waiting?”

“Of _course_ I was, Hiccup!” said Pippa as she moved even closer, cupping Hecate’s cheek. Now that Hecate was forced to look into Pippa’s eyes, she was a bit overwhelmed to see nothing but warmth and love there. “I’ve loved you since we were children. Surely, you _knew_ that?”

Pippa’s hand felt white-hot against her cheek, as if it were branding her. But it was a soothing sort of pain, like slipping into a too-hot bath.

“No… no, I didn’t.”

If Hecate didn’t already feel so exposed, this admission would’ve laid her completely bare.

“Well,” said Pippa, flashing a crooked smile. “It would seem as though I have thirty years’ worth of love to prove to you.”

While Hecate was still processing the rather remarkable idea that Pippa—the same Pippa she hadn’t properly spoken to since their Academy days—not only reciprocated her feelings, but… _loved_ her, she was suddenly met with two very soft lips pressing against her own.

The kiss began as a gentle thing, a question with no need for a verbal response. Hecate couldn’t remember a time she felt so… cherished.

Pippa tugged on the ties of Hecate’s dark snakeskin robe to eliminate any remaining space between them. Their bodies flush, Hecate couldn’t think of anything to say but: “I love you, too.”

“Oh, Hiccup,” said Pippa, her eyes soft. “I know.”

Their mouths crashed together once more, and this time it wasn’t a gentle exploration, but rather a passionate thing, all teeth and tongue and wandering hands. It was everything Hecate had ever wanted, but dared not ever dream she’d actually have one day.

Not satisfied with simply a kiss, Pippa slipped Hecate’s robe off her shoulders and backed her up towards the bed until they both went tumbling down onto the pillows. When Pippa began kissing a path down Hecate’s neck and across her collarbone, Hecate stopped her with a gentle hand.

“Are you sure? We could just… talk?”

“Do you _want_ to ‘just’ talk?” said Pippa, quirking an eyebrow.

For propriety’s sake, Hecate very much wanted to say “yes,” but the press of Pippa’s thigh between her legs was entirely too wonderful to refuse.

“No,” Hecate admitted, before flipping them so that she could be on top. “I think there are some things I would very much like to do instead.”

With that declaration, Hecate set to work showing Pippa just how much she’d missed her.


End file.
